Circling the Void

"We're all just circling the drain that spirals

Downwards--down, down, down, down

Into the void," he told her as he drove 

Her home after their first 

Date. 

 

"How very insightful," she answered. She 

Was an amputee, with 

Only one arm and one leg. 

 

"Yeah, it's all pretty much meaningless. Yep."

She stared at him for a 

Moment as they sat there parked in front of 

Her apartment late in 

The night.

 

"Well, thank you for such a nice dinner and

The conversation's been 

Scintillating, so thank you for that and

Have a nice evening," she 

Said, as she grabbed a crutch with her hand and

Got out of his car quick.

 

"Wait," he called out to her as she got out.

"Can I see you again?" 

 

But she did not seem to hear him as she 

Hobbled to her front door. 

She did not even look back at him as

She helped herself inside. 

 

He never heard from her ever again.

Correspondence

 

Sun., Feb. 17 at 9:14 a.m.

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

 

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

Hey There!                                                                                                        

 

Hey there, son! Just thought I'd drop a line as we haven't heard a word from you since you were here for Christmas. Your mother's left a you a few VMs since then and she still hasn't heard back from ya.

Hope everything's OK. Please drop us a line or give us a call when you get a chance. Just so we know things are good with you.

Love,

Dad

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM!

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

Sun., Feb. 17 at 9:32 a.m.

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

 

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

Hey There (Again)!                                                                                           

OK, your mom just reminded me that we HAVE heard from you since Christmas. Or at least she has. You called her on her cell the day after New Year's to wish us a happy new year. So...I stand corrected. (You know how much mom likes to correct me.)

Anyway, please reply or give us a call soon. Would love to know how you're doing. 

 

Love,

Dad

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM!

____________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Mon., Feb. 25 at 8:46 p.m.

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

 

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

Long time, no chat                                                                                     

So how's it going? I assume you got my e-mails last week....? Your mom and I both tried calling your cell a few times over the last couple of days and we just keep getting your VM.

 

Can you just let us know that you're OK?

 

Love,

Dad

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM!

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

Sat., March 2 at 11:09 a.m. 

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

 

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

Long time, STILL no chat                                                                               

Hello, son.  Still haven't heard back from you.

Fortunately, I got hold of your buddy Jake yesterday. He said that he had just talked to you a few days ago, and that as far as he was concerned you sounded as though everything's OK. Was glad to hear it.

 

BTW, I had no idea that Jake is going to.....culinary school???? Your buddy Jake???? OUR Jake, that smart-ass kid that always flirted with your mom??? 

 

Not that there's anything wrong with it. I just had absolutely no idea that he had any interest in cooking at all. It was a bit of a surprise. Anyway, he sounded good. It seems he's really taken to it and is having a great time, though he hinted that it could be fairly rough at times. 

 

Hope school is going well with you.

 

Anyway.....PLEASE CALL, TEXT, OR E-MAIL. Me or your mother. We'd like to hear from you directly as to how you're doing, not have to track down your old high school classmates to find out.  

 

Love you always,

Dad

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM!

  

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Mon., March 11 at 1:34 a.m.

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

 

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

We miss you                                                                                                

Hey, Jerry. So you're still not replying to my e-mails or taking my calls, or calling me back. 

You're angry with me. I get it. Your mother and I have hashed and re-hashed our conversation at Christmas a hundred times. (More like a thousand times, it seems.) She says that what I had said to you was very hurtful to you. Well, I understood perfectly well at the time I said what I said that it very well might be. 

But look, my point wasn't to belittle the plans you shared with us for the sake of belittling them. I didn't say what I said to make you feel bad. I said what I said because I care about you. 

Jerry, what you're considering is a very major life-altering decision, one that will determine the entire course of your future. In my (humble) opinion, such a course would bring you an awful lot of unnecessary misery and suffering. 

And please, please, PLEASE....understand that out there in that big, complicated, crazy world, there are all sorts of con artists and fraudsters with their own agendas, who don't give a damn about what's in your best interest--they only want to use you for their own narrow, selfish ends. (Many of these people may not even be aware that they're con artists, as they've managed to so effectively deceive themselves. The human mind can be such an elegant mechanism of self-deception!) This is a fact that you will become more and more aware of as you get older. 

That's not to say that you should be suspicious and mistrustful of everyone you meet. But you have to make sure that you have a finely honed bullshit detector between your ears. You have to be able to distinguish between those who sincerely want to help you succeed in actualizing your authentic self and becoming a better person, and those who just see you as a tool to be used. And that can be tricky sometimes. A lot of the time, those who claim that they just want to help you are the ones who want to use you, and those who appear to just want something from you are the ones who can actually help you--really help you--and may even turn out to be your closest and most trusted friends in the long run. (Confusing, I know! But be wary of those who say they want to help you out without expecting anything at all in return. That is often a ruse.)

 

And Jerry, these people you told us about, who say they just want to help you with whatever problems you have, or believe you have, who are encouraging you in this decision--they sound like hucksters, not friends. It seems to me that they don't really care what happens to you. They just know what they can use you for. 

Anyway, I'm telling you this not because I want to thwart your happiness--quite the opposite. I very much want you to be happy--not such a simple thing to achieve, I might add--because I love you. I'm saying all this because I love you, Jerry. I've loved you since that night I first held you in my arms after your mom endured nearly twenty hours of labor (as she never fails to remind us), and you reared your head back and aimed those big brown saucer eyes at mine. At that moment, not only did I feel an overwhelming sense of love, but it had also fully dawned on me that your mother and I had an awesome responsibility to make sure that you would someday be fully equipped to take care of yourself in this utterly insane, chaotic world. 

And as you have grown up, that has often meant telling you things that you do not want to hear. But I do it anyway, because I love you and I honestly believe that you NEED to hear them, so that you don't someday end up being utterly confused and miserable. Love is not telling someone only what they want to hear, Jerry. You tell the people you love what you really think they should hear, even if you have an awful hunch that they probably don't want to hear it.

 

And maybe--just MAYBE--you might consider that it's remotely possible that I've learned at least a few things in my nearly 60 years of walking this Earth. 

 

Anyway, I think that I've pretty much said all that I have to say about this, and I have nothing more to add. You know my honest opinion, but the decision is still yours to make, of course. You're a young man now. You're about to turn 19. 

 

Maybe the lesson I'm learning right now is that I eventually have to let go and allow you to make your own choices, even if I think they're terrible choices that you'll end up regretting. (But I will still always let you know what I think---because I LOVE YOU.) This is the hardest lesson I've learned in a long, long time. But I remind myself that regrets are, unfortunately, and often painfully, the necessary lessons taught by experience that we all must go through on occasion throughout our lives. I've had my share of such experiences, God knows, and you will, too, no matter what I think or say to you.

 

OK, enough of my rambling. I just hope I've made myself clear. I'll say nothing more about this. (Unless, of course, you ever want to discuss it further.)

But please, PLEASE--call or write us sometime soon, OK? We miss talking to you.

I miss you and love you,

 

Dad

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM! 

 

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Wed., March 20 at 5:47 p.m.

Peter Streicher <pstreicher@dmail.com>

To: Jerry <js2000@ilsu.edu>

 

Pick-up                                                                                                           

Hey, Jerry. Just wanted to let you know that I may be a little late picking you up at the train station on Friday. I have an afternoon meeting with a client and I have a feeling that it may end up running a little late. (This guy is quite the talker.)

Can't wait to see you! Your mother and I have missed you.

Love, 

Dad

 

"Remember how long you have been putting off these things, and how often you have received an opportunity from the gods, and yet do not use it." -- Marcus Aurelius -- CARPE DIEM! 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

Lovely Day for a Chat

She had seen him around a lot lately. Middle-aged man, always seemed to be wearing the same Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, and the same beat-up brown fedora. She was fairly certain that he must have just moved into the neighborhood in recent months. The block had several two- and three-flats that changed tenants every so often.

The guy was now happily walking toward her with a bounce in his step, almost dancing, whistling while doing so. There was something about him that made her uneasy.

He seemed a little too...cheerful. 

She continued on her journey, focusing only on pushing the stroller. She could see her little boy's right leg dangling out of it, and his little head bouncing slightly as she peered through the mesh of the canopy.

It was a perfect day. The sun was out. The temperature was in the low-to-mid-70-degree range. She had rarely felt this relaxed and contented. That is, until she saw Mr. Fedora Khaki Shorts bouncing her way.

They eventually came face-to-face. Instead of walking past her, he had opted to stop directly in front of her, blocking her way.

"Good afternoon," he said.

"Good afternoon," she curtly replied.

"Perfectly lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes it is." She paused for a moment, hoping that he'd just go on his way. But he just stood there in front of her, smiling at her. "May I help you with something?"

The man knelt before the stroller.

"Well hello!" the man exclaimed. "How old are you, young man?"

"I'm almost seven," answered the boy.

"Seven? You're a little old for mommy to be pushing you around in a stroller, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?" asked the boy's mother.

"Mommy won't let me walk when we--"

"Be quiet, Alex!" she snapped at the boy. "Do you mind? We have a play date to go to." She quickly pulled out her phone and checked it. "And we're already three minutes late, so--"

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to tell Alex something."

"Do you mind? Please get--"

"Always remember this, Alex: 'Memento mori'."

The boy giggled. "What does THAT mean? Sounds silly!"

"It's Latin. Do you know what Latin is?"

"No," replied the boy. 

"Latin is a language that nobody uses anymore. It's what you call a dead language. 'Memento mori' is Latin for"--he paused for just a moment--"'remember that you must die'."

"What the hell---?!" shouted the boy's mother. She angrily jolted the stroller to the side of Fedora and moved past him, jostling the boy around like a sailor trapped on a ship in a storm. She then stopped and looked back at Fedora as he got off his haunches. She coolly locked her eyes with his.

"I could call the cops, you know. Saying such things to a child!"

He simply smiled back at her and began whistling again. He happily went on his way with that cheerful, dance-like walk of his.

Such people, she thought. So goddam irritating.

On the Occasion of His 123rd Birthday

Walt reflected on his long life as he sipped the green tea his great-granddaughter had poured for him. "Green tea is so good for you!" she exclaimed. "So many antioxidants!" He quietly replied with a pleasant smile.

His hand trembled a little, as it usually did, as he raised the cup to his lips.

"Here, let me get you a straw."

"No, it's OK. I'll be fine."

"I'll get you one anyway, just in--"

"No, thank you," he replied, rather firmly. "I'm fine."

Today was Walt's 123rd birthday.

"One hundred and twenty-three years," he muttered to himself.

"That's right, Gobby!" exclaimed Lucy. "Gobby" was what she called him ever since she was barely a toddler. She sputtered out the word the first time she tried to call him "great-grandpa." The family found it charming and affectionately adopted it as his nickname. Walt was already closing in on a hundred years of age at that point and found the new moniker a little annoying. He was fond of his great-granddaughter--she had grown into a smart, charming young woman, though she had a habit of asserting opinions on things that she appeared to know very little about--but he still winced inside every time she called him that.

"And now that you're one hundred and twenty-three years old, do you know what that means?"

"I don't know, what?" asked Walt.

"It means that, as of today, you are the oldest person in the entire world who has ever lived, Gobby!"

"Oh, right. Of course." It suddenly returned to Walt's mind that Lucy had arranged for a reporter or journalist of some kind to come talk to him, a lady reporter about Lucy's age. She would probably have a photographer with her to snap some photos of the world's oldest human being.

"That record had previously been held by a lady in France. She lived for one hundred and twenty-two years, Gobby! Well, one hundred and twenty-two years and one hundred and sixty-four days, to be exact, so technically you already broke her record several months ago, but I just think it's better to celebrate your new world's record on the day of your birthday, it just feels more fitting. Anyway, she died a long time ago, way back in the 1990s--which means that she was born all the way back in the 1870s, Gobby! I mean, ohmygosh! That also means she was, like, a young woman of about twenty years old at the time you were born! Just a little younger than I am now! And we're part French!"

She smiled at him as though she had just shared the greatest discovery with him. "You know what else, Gobby? I just found out online that not only are you the confirmed oldest human being who has ever lived, but of the entire list of the world's twenty oldest living people, you are the only man! All the rest are women! Isn't that something?"

He just looked at her for a moment. He took in her face through the thick lenses of his spectacles, studied it. A quick slideshow of hundreds of photographs played in his mind. It stopped on the image of his mother, which he then superimposed onto Lucy's face. It fit almost perfectly. She had always reminded Walt of his younger sister, Catherine, who was the spitting image of his mother. Catherine had died young, killed by the Spanish flu that swept across the globe and killed hundreds of millions in 1918. It was the first great heartbreak of his life. But at this very moment, Lucy looked much more like his mother than his sister. It dawned on him that it was the shape of the eyes, and just the way her smile curved across her face. He decided that those details were much closer to his mother's face than Catherine's, reversing a previous assessment he had made some years before. Perhaps he would change his mind again.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Walt.

He saw the smile on Lucy's face slowly fade away. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"I, um...I just...," she finally began to mutter.

"What are you doing with your life, Lucy?"

She just stared back at him, dumbstruck.

"I don't give a single goddam how many years I've lived, why should anyone else? What the hell does it matter how many years I've been alive? How many years a person's lived matters about as much as a pile of cow dung. Never mind about me, what are you doing with yourself these days? I know you've gone back to school so many times I've lost count. You graduated with one degree, and you've been going back over and over ever since. I guess that's why they call it 'graduate school.' It's a school for people who graduate college once but then they never want to leave it. Maybe it's high time you stay the hell out of school and get out in the world more. I've lived one hundred and twenty-three years now, and there's a hell of a lot I never tried my hand at, and now I never can because even if I lived another hundred and twenty-three years this body is just too damn old and shopworn to give those things a try."

His bespectacled eyes focused intently on hers as he leaned into her face. "Lucy, I'm going to tell you right now, the only thing that could be worse for you than dying in the next five minutes is to live to be my age--to live for more than a hundred and twenty years--and have it dawn on you after all that time that you ain't done jack shit with yourself, not really."

He saw the gears behind her eyes begin to grind, and her face began to change, almost transform, after he uttered those last words. Then her eyes darted from his. Her posture changed. Her mouth parted as if to admit some new spirit or soul to take up residence in her body. She rose slowly from the kitchen table and walked over to the window. She gazed outside, quietly meditating.

The doorbell rang. She looked back at Walt.

"Oh, oh...that's them! The reporters!" She quickly darted out of the kitchen. Walt then heard her answer the door, her voice chipper and excited, followed by a muffle of strange voices.

Walt took another sip of his tea and braced himself. 

From 'Harribald Flortheimer's Books of Maxims' (Vol. XXXVII, Chapter XII, Lines 432-33 [G])

"Should a single penny drop into a toilet, there will be many cries, and much wailing and gnashing of teeth; but not a single soul shall notice that the house is burning down."